


A Good Night For All

by xof1013



Category: La Femme Nikita
Genre: Gen Fic, Other, Yuletide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-27
Updated: 2010-08-27
Packaged: 2017-10-11 06:55:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/109680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xof1013/pseuds/xof1013
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When one wasn't allowed to think towards the future, it was the temerity to *live* that made the difference.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Good Night For All

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Yuletide 2008 - For Ainsley.

A Good Night For All

By xof

(December 14, 2008)

 

It was an oddity really. One of note, however privately acknowledged. How holidays could become the elephant in the room when it came to the days and nights spent within the binding constraints of life in Section One.

It wasn't exactly company policy to spread joy to the world, let alone to its own dead-on-paper operatives and enforced work staff. But despite itself, and the silence that reigned as the only open acknowledgment of the holidays as they came and went, there was a sense of family. One built either by necessity or by obstinacy on the part of the people that made up Section One.

Secret alliances, and perhaps not so secret loves. Friendships that lasted past or were made that much stronger by tests of company loyalty. The understanding that small pleasures and fleeting joys could make the next day bearable. Moments that wove and tangled like threads through the iron bans that caged their lives, instilled in them the light of hope.

When one wasn't allowed to think towards the future, it was the temerity to *live* that made the difference.

"Hey, kid." Even the tone of Walter's voice spoke to the pleasure he was taking in the view. "You're looking very," he paused to let his eyes travel, then smiled, "cream and honey. Got plans, darling?"

Nikita shook her head, even as she smiled in return. "Just diner for one. Thought I'd grab a bite and head home. I'm off for the next 48."

Walter hummed, then leaned in as she handed over her gun. The woman was looking as stylish as always, but with a bit more attention to details. Subtle makeup, a bit more color than one would think for a woman headed home. But not enough to seem like she was trying to be noticed. As if a woman like Nikita needed to work for notice. In any way.

Slipping his finger over her thumb as he took her weapon to be logged, Walter murmured, "Any way I could persuade you to change your plans? Warm bistro on a cold December night, good wine, some music and," again he stopped, then finished for effect, "conversation."

She laughed, low and soft. Their old game of flirt and deflect as one she looked forward to, and it showed in her voice as she answered. "Tempting, but don't tell me you haven't got plans. I think her name was Teresa, right?"

"Oh, right. Teresa," he said, pretending to have forgotten.

Nikita shook her head. "You're a scoundrel, Walter."

"Nah, just good at being bad." He gave her a wink, and watched as she turned to go. "Have fun, sugar." She nodded, and left – not hearing his last quiet words. "The both of you."

\- - -

A light rap of knuckles on the desk to Birkoff's right pulled his attention away from the computer screens he'd been staring at for what seemed more than half his lifetime. "Walter, hey." He took off his glasses and rubbed at his tired eyes. "Sorry, I didn't hear you come up. I've been…"

"Buried in it up to your eyebrows. Just like always." Walter's tone was fond while still sounding a bit reproachful. The young man was one of his closest friends, so it was an old argument that Walter thought Birkoff should be taking more of an interest in living what life he was allowed under Section's hand, on his off hours. But more often than not, when not asleep, Birkoff could as easily be found attached to his computers as he was during his schedule on-call.

"What are you doing still here?" Birkoff glanced at the time, pointedly not responding to Walter's comment. "You'll be late." He said it with a brief smile, having heard from Walter about the fire that burned within this newest lady of his. A woman so tempestuous could be sparked to burn for Walter, or against him.

"I'm out the door. Just needed to ask you," Walter stopped, looking over as another walked into the room. "Michael, hey. How'd things go in Turkey?"

Quiet and succinct as usual, Michael answered, "As planned. The intel Brevner gave us proved correct." He handed his panel to Birkoff for later processing. "There will be a follow-up run, in 72 hrs. Conference review is set for 60. The details are programmed, with items flagged for your analysis before the meet." He nodded towards them both, and then left out in the same direction that Nikita had taken not long before him.

"There's a man that's not one for goodbyes," Walter joked as Birkoff started working on the panel Michael had given him. Already tired, off work and he was still at it. "Birkoff, let it rest. It's Christmas. You should go out, have a beer. Grab some fresh air, a fresh girl…."

"Walter," Birkoff interrupted. "Bah humbug."

"Ha ha. Look, just consider it. You give enough of your time, hell, your life to this place. Take a little something back now and again."

"Whatever you say, Father Christmas." Birkoff chuckled, "It's time for you to go a-ho-ho-hoing. I'm almost done, and then I'm gone too. Okay?"

Walter nodded, clapping a hand on Birkoff's shoulder fondly. "Good, good." He started to turn to leave, but then remembered. "Oh, one thing. I needed to ask a favor."

Birkoff looked at him wearily, but listened as Walter leaned in and murmured quietly. The details caused Birkoff to turn his head sharply as the older man stepped back. "Are you kidding me? You want me risk my neck trying to be some kind of Secret Santa to Nikita and Michael?"

The soft hiss of Birkoff's voice was low enough not to resound within the room, but Walter was cautious regardless when he replied, "Keep it down, would you? I just want us to see if we can give them one night without Mommy and Daddy's eye in the sky."

Birkoff stared at him stubbornly, but he was thinking regardless. There was a way. Loop the feed, pull a few untraceable tricks and yes, it could…

"It's Nikita and Michael, Birkoff. Have a heart."

"If I had a brain, I wouldn't even be listening to this," Birkoff grumbled. When Walter opened his mouth to protest and/or drive his request home, Birkoff held up his hand. "Spare me the holiday spirit advert, okay. I'll think about it. Just go, yeah? Have a good night." Giving Walter a brief up-turn of a smile, Birkoff added, "Happy Christmas." He knew it would mean something to his friend, an expression of good faith on a holiday for which Birkoff had been raised not to think on.

With nod, Walter gave him a grin in return. "Happy Christmas, Seymour. And, thanks." It was more than evident by the look on his face that he understood Birkoff's 'think about it' was tan demount to his agreement.

Turning back to his computer, Birkoff didn't watch as Walter left. But he did listen. Listened and acknowledged, privately, that yes he had agreed. But the gift of a night, the freedom of a few hours – it wasn't for Nikita. It wasn't for Michael.

It would be for Walter.

And thinking still harder about the life that he led, the life that all of them led – or were allowed to live. Maybe, just maybe – it was a little for himself as well.

Merry Christmas, to all. And to all a good night...

Finis


End file.
